


What Made Me Love Thee?

by star_named_andy



Series: Shakespeare Does a Funny Thing [7]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Archery, Bard's parents - Freeform, Barduil - Freeform, F/M, M/M, References to Shakespeare, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard becomes worry-stricken to his core about his beloved boyfriend and he is relieved when he finally hears from Thranduil after a long wait. Despite this, there are things that need resolving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Made Me Love Thee?

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content. I also make no claims to owning any of William Shakespeare's work.)

When Bard returned home humming songs and skating around on air, he earned very inquisitive looks from his curious parents. He jumped up his front steps and entered the house with intent to greet his parents and swung right into the living room where Brent and Runa sat solving the newspaper’s latest crossword puzzle together. Their gazes peered up at him instantly as they saw his figure suddenly appear in the doorway and they smiled very brightly and _knowingly_. Of course they knew, Bard thought, and the notion of them knowing what he was doing last night was a little unsettling; at least they were lax about those things.

“Hey, I’m home!” Bard announced.

“Hi, honey. Where’s your friend?” Runa inquired, not seeing her son’s tall, stunning companion at his side.

“He had to get going home.”

“You said he’s from California, right?” Brent asked.

“Mmhm. He lives in Mirkwood; it’s like, a three hour drive from here.”

“Well, that was very nice of him to make the trip to come visit you. Have you two been friends long?” Runa asked and Brent squinted his eyes at the paper behind his glasses.

“What is the name of the king from that Shakespeare play with the fairies?” he interrupted and pointed to his page in the paper. “That’s the next one; seven down.”

“You mean A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Bard suggested and Brent nodded zealously.

“Yes, that’s it!”

“Try Oberon.”

“Hm…yep that’s the one! It fits perfectly. Thank you, son. I figured you would know, being the Shakespeare expert of the house.”

“Thranduil was just in that play, you know. He played Oberon. He’s an amazing actor.”

“Is he?” Runa asked with brightness illuminating her face at seeing the excessive joy emanating from her son.

“Yes, he really is. That’s… _sort of_ how we met up. He wants me to try out for next year’s play. They’re doing Hamlet.”

“Oh, honey you should! You know it all by heart, for sure.”

“That might be fun for you, Bard.” Brent added, but then he shifted his attention from the paper to focus directly on Bard. His glasses slid down closer to the end of his nose as he gave his son a hard look. “So this young man…is he just a friend, or…?”

“Oh – well, not really, not _anymore_. We just got together, actually.” Bard admitted a tad bashfully with a faint blush rising in his cheeks.

“Ah, I see. And did you two stay at a nice place last night?”

“I took him to Erebor Suites.”

Both of his parents looked at him then with eyebrows raised. Bard felt concern plummeting into his stomach at their obvious surprise, but he was relieved by his father’s smile, gleaming with pride.

“That’s my boy, treating his guys right. He must be very special, then, for you to spend that kind of money.”

“He’s…he’s _perfect_.” Bard sighed through his grin and Runa squealed giddily with a thin film of tears bordering her waterline.

“Oh, how sweet! My little boy is _in love!_ ” she exclaimed.

“Is he, now?” Brent inquired.

“I am.” Bard laughed and Runa sprang from her seat. She went right to him, kissing each of his cheeks and then squeezing him with incredible strength in a hug.

“I’m so happy for you, honey!”

“Thanks, ma.” Bard said with an endearing roll of his eyes.

“He seems like a sweetheart and he’s _very_ attractive; I didn’t want to embarrass you too much yesterday, _but wow!_ You sure picked a good one!”

“Now Runa, we hardly know him.” Brent corrected and Runa then let her son breathe a little easier as she released him from their embrace. “We’ll have to have him over for dinner so I can do a full assessment myself. I need to make sure he’s good for you, son.”

“He really is, da, I promise you.” Bard said enthusiastically. “I’ll tell him you want to have him for dinner and I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.”

“I can make him up an invitation card to send in the mail! I’ve been working on my crafting lately, and I’ll tell you-”

“Ma, that’s really not necessary.” Bard offered with an appreciative grin.

“You better be being _responsible_ with your physical affairs there, Bard.”

“ _Da!”_ Bard blurted in shock with a dark shade of red replacing his subtle blush – he didn’t think his father would be so _blunt_ about such things.

“Men can’t get pregnant, but they can still carry diseases. We don’t know where this guy has come from, who he’s been with – I mean it. Take precautions every time you decide to have sex with someone, whether it’s this Thranduil or not, no matter what. Next time, the time after, _forever_ , unless you are absolutely, undoubtedly sure that the other person isn’t a risk.”

“Alright da, yes, I know.” Bard replied, his shoulders loading with guilt, seeing as he already gave away his virginity to Thranduil and he had had sex unprotected a few times now, having been lost in the whipping winds of passion. The folded panties in his back pocket became a lot heavier, adding to his guilt. He blinked and shook his head in astonished realization, brought back to something Brent had said.  “Wait – you said _next time_.”

“Yes, I did. You had sex last night, didn’t you? You took him to that ritzy hotel; and your face says it all, really.”

“I… _yes_.” Bard’s ultimate traitorous and virtuous feature had trapped him this time – he was, as he told Thranduil, too honest. Did he have the capability to lie to his parents to their face? Hell no, but he didn’t feel the urge to lie about this. What was the point? If he was mature enough to engage in the act, he was adult enough to admit to it as well.

“ _My baby’s a man!”_ Runa exclaimed, throwing her arms around Bard again and causing him to stumble.  He held onto her and hid his radiant, reddened face in her shoulder.

“Come on, ma. It’s not _that big of a deal_.” He muttered as she patted down his hair.

“It is a big deal, believe it or not.” Brent interpolated. Bard wanted to say something like: “I know it’s a big deal because it was _incredible_ ”, but he would spare his parents the details; those were explicitly for his knowledge and his alone.

“Having sex doesn’t make him a man, but it _is_ a man’s responsibility.” Brent spoke again and Runa nodded as she dabbed the droplets staining her cheeks.

“Your father is right, but I believe you’ll be the perfect little gentleman we raised you to be, Bard…what is that in your pocket?”

“That’s nothing!” Bard lied swiftly and split from her, stepping backward into the hall and not wanting his mother to investigate the contents of his pocket any further – _this_ he could _definitely_ lie about. He chuckled nervously with a twitching smile. “Can I go now?  I wanted to get started on my training for next week.”

“Go ahead.” Brent said and Bard dismissed himself to his bedroom upstairs.

He closed his door behind him, leaned his back against it, and huffed out a large exhale – _how horrible would that have been for his mother to discover lingerie in his pocket?_ Knowing her, she would have pulled them out, showed Brent, and they both would have shared a giggle at Bard’s expense with more lecturing to follow. Luckily, the disaster had been avoided – not very gracefully or subtly, but avoided nonetheless.

Bard pulled the promiscuous little garment form his pocket and smiled at it fondly. He imagined that how he was presently would be a strange scene for any onlooker to view, seeing a young man of his age smiling by the mere presence of a pair of panties, but the black lace in his hands was more than just underwear. This gift was Thranduil’s form of expression, like an art. Bard was coming to understand that now.

He stowed the underclothing away in one of his dresser drawers before changing into clean clothes which he was only going to dirty by going outside and sweating as he commenced his target practice. He immediately thought of his little show he’d put on for Thranduil just yesterday as he grabbed his bow.

He released arrow after arrow, testing different angles both in stillness and in motion. He shot under his leg for fun and at times flung multiple arrows at once or fired them consecutively to hit different targets near and far. He breathed calmly with no fatigue as he sweat out the practice and decided that tomorrow he’d go to the shooting range in order to have access to moving targets, seeing as that was a competition requirement of the advanced ranks which Bard was placed in, of course. He had no doubt he’d bring home some kind of award, not because he was arrogant, but because he accepted that this was his natural talent. If for some reason he didn’t earn high scores and come home with a form of earned prize, that just meant he had to train harder. Most awards in competitions were money prizes, sometimes accompanied by medals, certificates or other things, and Bard always needed the money; why not try to reach for the highest of rewards when you have the talent to do so and you enjoy pursuing that talent, he figured?

He stayed out for an hour before retreating inside to set the table for lunch while his parents finished preparing the food. They sat together as it was a normal custom for them when they were all there to do so. They never spoke much during meals unless it was a compliment about the food, since they were all very invested eaters and _loved_ food in every way; the labor, the sight, the smell, and most of all the taste. Bard offered to clean the dishes and pack away what little was left over (and it was very little, but the Bowmans never wasted anything) and Brent and Runa gave no protest, happy to let their willing son take over the dish washing this time around.

He put all of the dishware in its place and only two hours had rolled by since his love had left; Thranduil certainly wouldn’t be home yet. Bored, Bard decided to message Bilbo and see if he was free to chat. Luckily, Bilbo responded very fast with enthusiasm and called him on the phone right away.

“Hey, stranger!” Bilbo greeted and Bard laughed as he flopped on the couch.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, just the usual; helping my folks run the shop and all, missing my roommate - you still have yet to come visit, by the way! Pastries are on the house!”

“Sweet.”

“Literally.”

“Wow, that was corny.”

“Like the muffins!”

“Okay, stop.” Bard laughed and Bilbo joined him with a giggle and there was a loud clanking on his end that made Bard cringe. “Are you busy?”

“Oh, no, no! Just being clumsy and bumping into things as usual; you would think after sharing that hole of a room with you that I would be used to walking around more carefully.”

“Now that you’re home you have free range! You’re abusing it! And it’s not like you have little feet.”

“Hey, it’s a family trait and Thorin likes those feet, _thank you_.”

“So you’ve told me.” Bard said with a bit of a grimace, recalling every specific detail of Bilbo’s sex life that he had for some reason shared with him, but everyone had their kinks. Bard was not one to judge. “Speaking of Thorin, I was at Erebor Suites last night.”

“Aren’t they _so gorgeous?_ Those Oakenshields have snazzy taste.”

“That they do.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I was actually there with Thranduil.”

“OH-HO-HOOO!” Bilbo bellowed and Bard rolled his eyes with a smirk spreading across his lips. “So you two met up, huh? That’s nice! So are you two like a thing, or...?”

“We are, as of yesterday.”

“Wait, _seriously?”_

“Seriously.”

“No way! Who asked who?!”

“It was sort of a mutual thing.”

“Wow, who would have thought? Thranduil Oropherion and Bard Bowman, _boyfriends!”_

“I know. I kind of can’t believe it myself.”

“Good, I’m happy for you! As long as he treats you right, that is.”

“He’s been a perfect angel, _dad_.” Bard joked; Bilbo really was sounding like his dad.

“Your parents know? Did they meet him?”

“They did briefly, but we weren’t together at that point. They want him over for dinner.”

“Already?”

“You know my dad.”

“Yeah, remember the first time I ever came to visit?”

“Yes, I remember.” Bard sighed.

“He was all up in my business like I was some kind of predator, but once we explained we were just friends he was so nice! He’s just looking out for you.”

“Mm, yeah, but I’m an adult now, you know?...By definition.”

“Yes I know, but what I don’t know are the details - tell me _everything_.”

Throughout their friendship, Bard had learned that Bilbo Baggins adored gossip and specifics; he wasn’t one to spread rumors or secrets by any means. Bard trusted Bilbo wholeheartedly, but for the sanctity of his and Thranduil’s bond, Bard did not give away every particular of their relationship as it was now. Bilbo only pressed a little, suspecting that Bard was holding out on him, but he ultimately receded from his nosiness out of respect for Bard’s boundaries. They prattled on about their exam marks, plans for the summer and upcoming movies they were looking forward to that would soon be coming out. Bilbo proposed that, if Bard and Thranduil were both willing, they double dated to an anniversary screening of Magic Mike. Bard had never seen the movie, but Bilbo was raving about it, so he promised to bring it up to Thranduil. Bilbo also made mention that he would be in Durinstown next week giving a talk about college at his old private boarding school, and visiting Thorin, or course; the two had met by the will of fate. Bilbo went all the way from his home of Hobbtion to Durinstown on a boarding scholarship, and needless to say it became quite the adventure for him. That being all said and known, Bilbo said he'd try to make arrangements to attend Bard's archery competition since Durinstown was where it was being held.

Bard checked the time, assuming that the time he’d spent on the phone had been a long time because his sweat was sticking to his phone screen and it was a very unpleasant feeling. He wiped it before glancing at the call info and grinned widely as he saw that nearly two more hours had passed! It was no surprise, seeing as Bilbo could yap for years on end if he were asked to. Thranduil should be arriving home soon and alerting Bard of his safe return.

“I’m gonna let you go for now, okay? I think I need a shower. I have two day old stank on my armpits and it’s starting to get to me.” Bard spoke and Bilbo snorted.

“I know what _that_ smells like. Go wash up – don’t forget about the movie date!”

“I won’t, I won’t. I’ll get back to you as soon as I ask Thranduil. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye-bye!”

The phone clicked and Bard hopped upstairs to refresh himself with a shower and wipe away his stink. He was eager to hear from Thranduil and they hadn’t even been separated twenty four hours, but he was bored and he’d been missing him since he left. He leisurely cleansed himself, hoping that by the time he decided to get out that Thranduil would have texted him. He sang bits to himself here and there as he rubbed his fingers into his scalp and let the suds be sprayed off of his body, turning under the shower head. He rinsed his hair thoroughly and stood idly under the water for as long as his wrinkling skin could stand. He dried himself down and tied his towel around his waist, bringing his dirty laundry to his room as he retired there to dress. He snatched his phone up from his bed and pouted a bit when he saw he had no notifications from Thranduil. Just a bit longer, he figured – maybe there had been traffic or an accident to account for.

While Bard only had a damp towel hanging from his hips, he decided to dip back into his newly discovered _dirty_ side; he wanted to give his boyfriend another reminder of him later and right now was the perfect time to create the little gift.

Bard realized after trying a bunch of different angles that taking selfies was _hard_ when you were really trying; he was never one to take too many photos of himself and Thranduil was obviously quite the opposite. Bard didn’t want to look like a complete dope with the camera, so he just went with a simple above angle. He held his phone up above him with his arms extended, showing his face, his bare chest still dripping with water droplets, and his slipping towel. Just a bit of dark hair crept past the bounds of his towel and he shook his head so that a few wavy strands of hair fell over his face. He giggled at himself, feeling only slightly ridiculous and scandalous, then bit down on his lip and snapped the photo he’d save until later.

Done with his posed sexiness, he put on a t-shirt and some sweatpants. He situated himself on his bed with his phone just beside him and he sighed as he sank his head into his pillow; every time he laid back in his bed, he was reminded of how much he missed it. His sleeping cot at school was not nearly as comfortable, even with pads underneath the sheets. He and Bilbo had struggled with the beds for a long time their first year together, but they learned to make the best of it.

Bard didn’t have time to think much more about the comfort of his bed before zonking out; yesterday’s affairs with Thranduil had been demanding on his body from the hiking to the sexing and he still hadn’t recovered fully. He was left to rest in peace, for his parents didn’t wake him when they found him in a tranquil slumber and no disturbances came ringing through his cellphone.

When he opened his eyes, he felt confused before he comprehended he’d fallen asleep. He stretched out his upper body with a loud groan and when he shifted, he felt something underneath him. He slapped his hand around tiredly to retrieve whatever it was and found it was his cellphone. He rubbed his eye as he checked the time and shook his head in alarm – _three hours?!_ He’d been sleeping _three hours_. He suddenly felt very awake and his stomach twisted at the thought of missing Thranduil’s text when he had specifically asked for it, but that’s when he realized his phone wasn’t even blinking. Had he seen the time right? He checked again; yes, three hours had gone by. He opened his text messenger, his Facebook messenger and his call log – _nothing_.

Something wasn’t right. His phone was acting up and he’d missed Thranduil’s message, he reasoned, and so he shot Thranduil a text with lightning speed.

Me: hey there :) did you text me? i’m sorry i missed it. i fell asleep. :p

He was still patient as twenty minutes went by, but as a new hour started approaching, he was setting into panic mode. What if nothing was wrong with his phone at all? What if something bad had happened? Had Thranduil been pulled over? In an _accident?_

Me: hey are you okay?

Not even ten minutes after he sent his last text, he was ringing Thranduil’s phone and hoping he’d pick up. For a fleeting moment he thought that perhaps Thranduil just didn’t have service or his phone had died, but it had been over six hours since Thranduil had started for home; wouldn’t he have found a way to contact him by now? Was he overreacting?

“This is Thranduil Oropherion. Leave your name and number if you want me to call you back.” Thranduil spoke lowly on his voicemail message and a beep followed.

“Um, hi, Thran. It’s me Bard; I just wanted to check and see if you got home okay since it’s been a while. I hope everything is alright…let me know when you get the chance.”

He was wrapped in worry, pacing around and constantly checking his phone as seconds and minutes continued to slip by  – _what was going on?_ Fury kept popping up through his concern, angered not by Thranduil, but by the fact that he had no clue if he was okay or not and there was no way he could find out or help him if he needed. He had no other choice than to wait.

He was glad that he and his parents were never talkative during dinner because he didn’t feel much like conversing. He told them when he was finished that he’d be washing the dishes again and without their acceptance or refusal he went right to it to keep himself occupied. Brent and Runa quietly left to the living room, but after a while Runa came back to check on her son who was heatedly scrubbing the dishes.

“You’ll break them if you keep up like that,” he commented and he quickly spun his head, not knowing she’d entered the room.

“Sorry, just trying to…when was the last time the tablecloth was washed? I was going to throw it in the washer.” Bard said.

“Don’t worry about the tablecloth, it couldn’t have been a week since it was last washed…is something wrong, honey?”

“No, ma.” Bard answered facing the sink, but he knew better than to reply with his back turned and immediately turned to her to speak to her directly. “No, ma.”

“Well, if you say so…but if you need to talk I know you’ll come to us, right?”

“Yes; thank you.”

She kissed his cheek and smiled warmly at him and Bard couldn’t help but mirror the gesture to her; she had a sweet charm about her that his family claimed Bard too carried and it made it difficult for any of their relatives to ever be angry with them for too long (not like that happened often anyway – the Bowmans were not ones to fight among family). Even though his looks much resembled his father, he was proud to have parts of his mother within him as well. Combined, his parents had made one well-rounded, healthy, handsome, and genuinely kind child.

After he finished the dishes a little more calmly, he sent Thranduil a few more texts and called again - nothing. He reminded himself that things happen sometimes and maybe his phone had broken or it wasn’t working or _something_ – anything that wasn’t Thranduil being hurt was Bard’s next best option to believe.

He went to his backyard and laid in the grass under the night sky; the air was a comfortable cool. He was pointlessly messing around on his phone, deleting old pictures that were taking up memory that he didn’t need and hoping that any second his phone would start ringing. Thranduil had left a little after eleven and now it was almost eight.

Just then, his hands flailed as his phone vibrated, the screen brightened, and his ringtone blared in his face. He dropped the phone right onto his face and grunted, but scrambled to pick it up – _a new text message from Thranduil!_

Thranduil Oropherion: Hey.

 _Hey?_ All he had to say after practically nine hours all he had to say was ‘ _hey_ ’?...That didn’t matter so much, Bard decided.

Me: hey. are you alright?

A brief pause passed before the screen showed Thranduil was typing.

Thranduil Oropherion: Yeh, I’m fine.

Thranduil Oropherion: I didn’t end up going right home, thatd akk.

Me: oh…well okay. i was just hoping nothing happened to you.

Thranduil Oropherion: Sorry.

Bard frowned. This didn’t seem normal at all. Thranduil was being awfully short with his responses.

Me: are you still out?

Thranduil: Hpme now.

Me: are you sure youre okay?

Thranduil Oropherion: Yeeees why?

Me: I dont know. you just seem off.

Thranduil Oropherion: No, byt I can be ;))))

Me: thats not what i meant.

Thranduil Oropherion: Why are you beung mtan?

Me: what?

Thranduil Oropherion: MEAN.

Me: um…i didn’t think I was.

Me: is this Thranduil?

Thranduil Oropherion: Unfortunately.

Me: do you not want to talk to me? i can let you go but i needed to know you got home alright.

Thranduil Oropherion: Never mind.

Me: never mind what?

Thranduil Oropherion: Whst are yiu doing?

Me: are you drunk?

Thranduil Oropherion: ;x

Thranduil Oropherion: Are YOU drunk?

Thranduil Oropherion: I love you. ;***

It was definite. All signs pointed to Thranduil being drunk. Bard was a little confused and put off by the whole situation, but there was no reasoning with Thranduil if he was so intoxicated – he knew that _very_ well.

Me: i love you too Thran.

Thranduil Oropherion: Do you?

Me: you know i do.

Thranduil Oropherion: Npbody loves me and thatd okay.

Me: what? thats not true. i know one person loves you for sure and thats me. and your friends and family do too.

Thranduil Oropherion: What are you wearing?

Me: just pajamas.

Me: maybe you should try to get some sleep.

Thranduil Oropherion: I can’t if you’pe not here.

Me: sure you can. im with you in spirit. <3

Thranduil Oropherion: I don’t want to be here.

Me: im sorry but we can see each other again very soon I promise. :*

And that was the last Bard heard from Thranduil that night.

Bard had gone with his night as normally as possible, being too puzzled to even try to unravel what was going on with Thranduil. He would wait until Thranduil was in a clearer state of mind to discuss the matter any further. He left Thranduil to his business and hope he was resting. The next morning, he reached for his phone to text Thranduil, but then decided against it. He would wait for Thranduil to come to him. He most likely had a hangover and was still asleep; it was only nine, after all. That could very well be early for Thranduil.

He dressed and had a small breakfast before grabbing his archery gear from the back shed. His parents were doing yardwork in the back, and g he gave them a short morning greeting and farewell after offering to pitch in and being denied. So, he left them with their gardening tools and headed to the shooting range.

The employees that he typically saw at the range welcomed him right away, hollering when they saw his truck pulling in; by now he didn’t even need to flash his membership card anymore when he came rolling onto the grounds. They flagged him down and flooded him at the admission booth, asking him a bit about college and his latest news about his school archery team and what events he had coming up. He gladly entertained them with what they wanted to know and then he was let to go freely on his way. He parked and with his full quiver on his back and his bow in hand, he stalked into the open field.

Certain sections were separated by fences and he seemed to be the only one in the open field then, with the exception of the target operator who stood at a control station. The operator was off to the side, safely out of the way of flying arrows, and before Bard were targets on posts that would move from side to side at different speeds and even spin. He filled out a sheet at the operator’s station, indicating what he wanted to get out of his time there, and then the contraptions started up.

First were three targets that moved back and forth down the track where they were planted. Bard fired one arrow after another slowly and hit the bullseye on each with great precision. As they sped up, his arrows stuck right next to his previous, since the middle bullseye was already taken. The machines paused and he retrieved his arrows to begin again. This time, the targets were maneuvering around each other on their track and Bard shot into the heart of the targets consecutively. After cleaning them of his arrows again, he repeated the outcome by firing three arrows in one shot. There was some cheering and applause from the operator and Bard grinned to himself. He knew he was damn good.

Before he moved on to the wheel of spinning targets a few paces away, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out only to see who it was, knowing if it were anyone but Thranduil or his parents he’d ignore it; low and behold, it was Thranduil and he just _had_ to take the call.

 “Please say you don’t hate me.” Thranduil greeted pleadingly.

“Hello to you too.” Bard replied with a laugh weaving through his words.

“I woke up and read my messages and I’m horrified and oh so sorry, Bard.”

“No, no, it’s alright.”

“I sounded like an asshole.”

“I’m not really worried about that as much as you having been gone for so long with any word from you at all.”

“I know, I know. I should have let you know what was going on.”

“I’d say yeah, you’re right about that. I was starting to think something bad had happened, you know? And then when I finally got to talk to you, nothing was really making sense.”

“I’m sorry.” Thranduil professed, and by the tone he was speaking in, Bard knew the apology was genuine.

“I’m just glad you’re not hurt…so, what exactly went on last night? Was everything alright? I know you were drunk, but it all just seemed…I don’t know, weird.”

“When I got back to California I didn’t go right home. I went out for a while and started drinking, so the time kinda just got away from me I guess. I know that’s a bad excuse, but-”

“Did you drive home?” Bard interrupted.

“I did, but I wasn’t _drunk_ at that point. That happened after I got home.”

“But…you were still drinking and then you drove. You would’ve been in a lot of trouble if you got pulled over.”

“I was able to drive, though. I got home in one piece.”

“That’s not really the point; when did you even go home?”

“I don’t know, like…seven? I don’t know.”

“So you got back in California probably around one, stayed out until seven drinking and you were sober enough to drive home?”

“ _No_.” Thranduil grunted and then he gave a sigh. “I wasn’t drinking the whole time I was out.”

“Why didn’t you say something to me then? I don’t care that you were out or anything, I just wanted to know you were alright.”

“I don’t know.” Thranduil responded shortly with a tone that lashed like a whip. It was evident for some reason he was getting aggravated, which Bard didn’t really understand. Yes, he was asking a lot of questions, but he felt they were warranted and it wasn’t like he was doing it in a berating fashion.

“Listen,” Bard began calmly. “I’m not trying to make you mad, here. Something about this just isn’t making sense. If you were drunk and you drove home, you can just say so. I just would prefer if you don’t try doing that again.”

“I _didn’t._ ”

“Okay, I believe you. Just next time let me know, that’s all.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good…well, I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Laying in my room. I haven’t really gotten up yet today.”

“Hungover?”

“Extremely.”

“Get up, take some aspirin get yourself a little bucket just in case, and then go back to sleep for a while. If I were there I’d do it all for you.”

“You’re too sweet for somebody who should be angry with me.”

“You said you were sorry and you’ll let me know what’s going on next time and now it’s over. Nothing to be angry about, my love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m actually at the shooting range practicing right now.”

“I didn’t mean to bother you; I’ll let the pro return to his training.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. How about I call you a little later? I have a few things I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing major, don’t worry.”

“I’ll talk to you later then…I love you.” Thranduil sounded so distant then; sad, almost. Bard’s heart ached for him and he actually put his hand over his chest with his bow in hand. Bard missed Thranduil as much as he missed Bard, if not more.

“I love you too and I mean it. You believe me, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thranduil mused.

“Just something you said last night about nobody loving you and how you were okay with that.”

“Oh, right…”

“What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee; there's something extraordinary in thee. I cannot but I love thee, none but thee, and thou deservest it.” Bard recited, knowing full well that Thranduil would know just what he meant by extracting Shakespeare’s words from The Merry Wives of Windsor. “I wish I could say more to assure you.”

“You don’t need to. When I’m away from you…it all just feels like you were, _we_ were, a lovely, impossible dream…never mind, I’m just rambling and my head hurts.”

“That reminds me of the time I said to you that it seemed we were sleeping and dreaming, but that’s only because what we have is so grand it defies description. My heart is with you, Thran…go take care of yourself and I’ll talk to you soon.”

After ending the phone call with Thranduil, he felt slight relief, but it was only slight; a bit of unease was still tingling in his stomach. He apologized to the operator who had waited for him and signaled for him to begin again. The first arrow he landed onto one of the spinning targets struck the ring just outside of the middle point and he furrowed his brows. The next time and every time after that, he was sure to make his mark.

He roamed around to other more occupied sections of the range and after shooting on his own, he was approached by a few others, some younger and some older than he, and they invited him to partake in their little competition. He gladly agreed; Bard was always up to play a kind game with new competitors who wished to challenge his skill. He awed them all and only two of his opponents came close to beating him, but even still they paled in comparison to Bard’s finesse and accuracy. They begged to hear his stories and to have him to trick shots. The younger challengers shyly asked if he could give them some tips. Being the nice young man that he was, Bard obliged and even demonstrated proper technique. He critiqued their forms and moved their elbows for them. Though the results weren’t a staggering improvement, he assured them success in the future with the right posture and more training.

He left the range feeling very content, knowing that his time had been well spent. It was just after noon now and he was on his way home when his phone rang briefly, indicating he had a new text message. He waited until he was home to check his phone (because Bard would never even _think_ to touch his phone while driving).

Thranduil Oropherion: ;*

Me: hey :) feeling better love?

Thranduil Oropherion: A little. Are you home?

Me: yep just got home. i’ll call in a minute when i get in.

He saw his father’s car was gone as he had most likely left for work shortly after Bard left that morning, but his mother’s car was absent from their little lot too, leaving him home alone for a while. He went straight up to his room to call his beloved. Barely two rings went by before the call was picked up on Thranduil’s end.

“Hey.” Thranduil chimed tiredly. And Bard smiled just at hearing his voice.

“Hello there. How’s my darling doing?” Bard asked.

“I’ve been better, but I’m faring well.”

“Have you puked your guts out yet?”

“…Only a few times.”

“I’ll never understand why people purposefully drink themselves into sickness. It can’t be pleasant.” Bard mused.

“Oh, so you’ve _never_ had a touch of alcohol?” Thranduil questioned doubtfully. 

“No, that’s not true. I’ve had wine on occasion and a few sips of beer, but only at family things usually. Never been drunk.”

“I bet you’d be a ridiculous drunk.”

“ _Please_ , I could not possibly be any worse than you, _King Thranduil_.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t remember that?!” Bard cackled.

“N-No! What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.”

“Your face would make me feel a whole lot better.”

“Really now?”

“Really, really. I miss you.”

Every time Thranduil said those three heart wrenching words, Bard ached. The way he said it made him feel completely guilty for not being right there by his side, even though that was surely not Thranduil’s intention.

“I can’t be there in person, but I think I have just the thing for you. How about I send it right now?”

“Okay.”

Bard put Thranduil on speaker phone as he sent the post-shower photo he snapped the day before that he saved especially for Thranduil. As it sent, he smirked in wait.

“Hey, do you have Facetime?” he asked.

“Oh – no.”

“You don’t? You should-”

“HOLY WOW.” Thranduil exclaimed and Bard chuckled modestly with rosiness coloring his cheeks. He shifted so that he laid on his side and curled a finger to rest on his lips in a cute, meek fashion.

“I’m assuming you got my picture?”

“I did, I did, that’s…..”

“…Thran?”

“Sorry, just looking at it. You are one gorgeous hunk of man, _my god_. Like… _damn,_ Bard, you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. I thought you’d like it…you know, if you download a video app on your phone we can see each other and maybe…maybe I can show you some things.”

There was a pause and Thranduil gave a short, disgruntled sigh.

“As enticing as that is, I just don’t have enough memory on my phone. I’ll make it up to you; I’ll make sure to send you a special something. Just give me a minute.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to do that right now…..Thran?”

Bard hadn’t been quick enough, for there was no response; Thranduil had clearly gone off to prepare for his photo. The brunette gave a playful roll of his eyes, chuckling under his breath at Thranduil’s antics. He waited patiently for a few minutes until Thranduil’s voice came back to him.

“You’re welcome.” He said with that magical voice of his.

“I haven’t even gotten it yet.” Bard laughed and he could _hear_ Thranduil smirk.

“I know. You said you had something to talk to me about?”

“Right – this may sound dorky, but my parents actually want to have you over for dinner. Before you say yes or no, my da may be a little weird at first, but that’s only because he’s protective.”

“Oh boy. Well…I guess I can’t really say no to that.”

“You don’t have to if it’s too soon. They can wait.”

“Next time I’m there we’ll all have dinner.”

“One more thing.”

“Mmhm?”

“A friend of mine wanted to know if you and I would go with him to see some movie with him and his boyfriend…Magic Mike, or something?”

“Oh, I _love_ that movie! Is it an anniversary showing?”

“Yes, it is. You’re a fan?”

“I am _definitely_ a fan. You’ve never seen it?”

“Nope.”

Bard glanced at his screen and saw the photo from Thranduil had arrived. He braced himself, taking in deep a breath before opening it. Thranduil was on his bed, very close to the edge and supported by his knees and his arms. The pose was a side view, his slender back at incline and his ass perfect raised up into the air. His head was resting on the mattress, but his face was turned away from the camera and his hair draped over the side of the bed.

“Something distracting you, Bard?” Thranduil inquired, knowing full well that Bard’s attention was on that erotic photo.

“Just you, my love. That’s a very… _attractive_ angle.”

“ _Mmm_ , I was hoping you’d think so. Would you like to see me like that again sometime? From the back?”

“But then I can’t see your beautiful face.”

“If it’s my face you want to see, a mirror is all we would need. Then you can take me from behind and still see me lose it from how good you fuck me.”

“God, you get me hot.” Bard sighed in almost a moan, feeling himself becoming erect at the sight of Thranduil’s naked form on the screen and the sound of his sultry voice. “I only wish I could see your face in this picture. You got to see mine because you missed you and I miss you too, so…”

“Not right now. I look haggard.”

“I’m sure you’re gorgeous, but I’ll let you off the hook for now since you don’t feel good.”

“What was that little noise you made a minute ago?”

“What?”

“You know, after you said I get you hot.”

“I was hoping you didn’t hear that.” Bard admitted with a light laugh, his arousal becoming more apparent just at the thought of it.

“Don’t tell me that just a picture made you hard.” Thranduil said playfully and Bard crossed his legs.

“What’s the problem with that? Are you saying you didn’t get at least a bit excited seeing me like that?” Bard refuted, feeling slightly offended and embarrassed.

“The problem is that I’m not there to take care of it for you, and of course I did. You get me hot no matter how much clothing you’re wearing.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Thran!” Bard said with a timid grin to himself.

“No, I’m not trying to be _sweet_ …never mind, you big mush.”

“Being sweet is a good thing…what you said means a lot to me.”

“I’m glad.” As Thranduil said this, he earnestly sounded much happier than he had before, pleased that Bard was such a romantic and that something as simple as honest words could make his heart soar. “So, when is your archery thing?”

“That’s next Wednesday at one.”

“Is it a public event?”

“Oh, yeah. Anyone who wants to can come for free.”

“And where will it be held?”

“It’s actually up north in a place called Durinstown. Why?”

“I was considering coming to see you slaughter the competition, if you must know.”

“ _Really?”_ Bard asked with a delighted glow illuminating his expression. Thranduil laughed an his excuted tone.

“Yes, really. Would you like me to?”

“Very much; I would love for you to be there!”

“That clinches it, I’m going. There’s no way I could miss it now.”

“Whys that?”

“Because I know how happy it would make you. Plus, a little extra good luck charm never hurt anybody.”

“Maybe a good luck kiss too?”

“Just for good measure.”

**Author's Note:**

> This bit may have been dry/slow since our lovers weren't together, so I'm sorry for that! But the content is important and they'll be reunited soon. :)


End file.
